


the saddest thing

by squidling



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Lowercase, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 23:46:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidling/pseuds/squidling
Summary: wonwoo pretends he doesn't. mingyu pretends he doesn't, too. they don't know what hurts more - missing the other person, or pretending they don't.





	the saddest thing

wonwoo pretends he doesn’t, and mingyu pretends he doesn’t, too. they don’t know what hurts more - missing the other person, or pretending not to.

they met when they were fifteen. at first it was awkward eye contact across the classroom. the two of them continuously caught the other’s eye. their books had notes missing because they were distracted by each other’s smile and wonwoo’s ears perked up whenever mingyu spoke. each question and each suggestion pushed him deeper and deeper into love. wonwoo tumbled as if he was alice falling down the rabbit hole.

mingyu asked. he tripped over air and stuttered out that he wanted to go on a date with him. they went out for dinner. they talked. wonwoo was seen as quiet but when he spoke, mingyu felt like he was in a daze. all he could focus on was wonwoo. there was nothing else.

they went to college. classes were skipped for each other and they sat on top of the monkey bars together in the playground. they spoke about their hopes and dreams. they spoke about their favourite things, like brown paper packages tied up with string. they spoke about anything at all.

by twenty they were engaged. wonwoo took mingyu to the park and pulled out a book. he flipped to a page and the younger thought he was finding his place. but then he was on the ground, on one knee, holding the book up to him. a beautiful ring with three gorgeous gems shone up at him, sandwiched in the middle.

he said yes.

on a beautiful saturday in june they said their vows, surrounded by those they loved and those who loved them. it was a gorgeous ceremony, the two men in white. they kissed by white pillars. they made a speech at white covered tables. in their blazer pockets were small white bunches of lilies. the flowers decorated every table. it was perfect. they were only twenty-two but so full of love. mingyu was wonwoo’s moon and wonwoo was mingyu’s stars.

they settled into their own house in the countryside. it was cosy. mingyu’s touch was the artwork and dropped pencils, wonwoo’s the bookcases and novels scattered about in every room.

they were a typical countryside couple. mingyu baked apple pies whilst wonwoo tended to the garden. his gentle hands handled every petal and fruit with care. at night those same hands delicately ran through his husband’s dark hair and traced the outline of his plump lips.

in winter evenings wonwoo sat in his armchair by the fire, scanning dozens of words on dozens of pages, a blanket thrown over his lap and a steaming mug of hot chocolate beside him. mingyu would be at his desk on the opposite side of the room, sketching the colorful contents of his mind. his painting’s made every wall a little less bare.

some nights mingyu came home with skincare products and they dedicated their whole evening to it. wonwoo could never keep up with the daily routines. mingyu laughed at him for washing off his moisturiser as soon as it was on, and took embarrassing photos of him wearing a golden sheet mask.

other days mingyu would drag wonwoo out of the garden and into the kitchen to do some baking. they would do a batch of cookies each and try their best to decorate them beautifully. mingyu’s were always golden with glorious icing, perfectly round with sprinkles, chocolate chips on the inside. wonwoo’s were undercooked and messy, some ovals, some...indescribable shapes. it was days like that that they loved each other the most - coating the other in flour and laughing at failed attempts at the perfect cookie.

when wonwoo was sick, his husband wouldn’t let him leave his bed. he stayed wrapped in bundles of blankets with a few books to keep him amused. mingyu cooked him soup and brought him hot drinks as if he was a nurse. he gave him different remedies to combat the illness and laughed when wonwoo scrunched up his nose at the most disgusting ones. wonwoo returned that favour when he was well again and mingyu fell sick.

the days were golden. even when it was dark or when rain fell, the air was golden like a constant instagram filter. their happiness together radiated and they were known amongst their friends as the perfect couple. and to the eye, they were. they really were.

but deep down, wonwoo was breaking. he was finding his way out of the rabbit hole, after ten years being stuck at the bottom. everything he used to love mingyu for began to become frustrating. each smashed glass was no longer a silly mistake, but a pain in the neck and more money gone. each splatter of paint was another job for wonwoo to deal with. mingyu’s audible train of thought at night lost its cuteness, making the elder tired and irritable the next day.

the golden tint faded. the city they had built together crumbled. wonwoo’s flowers in the garden wilted. the tomatoes rotted and the apples were left to fall from their tree, bruised and abandoned. wonwoo wasn’t happy. and mingyu was oblivious.

so wonwoo ripped the man’s heart out.

at twenty-six they filed for a divorce. it tore mingyu apart from the inside. it dropped like a bombshell and mingyu’s whole world collapsed. the circle of joy and laughter was overcome by a storm of tears and arguments. mingyu’s days were spent in pain. his chest burned and his mind shattered. his drawings became dark. they were figures made from scribbles surrounded by black clouds. his paintings illustrated storming oceans. the brightest piece of artwork were the dead flowers wonwoo left behind, petals scattered over his garden.

they move to opposite sides of town. wonwoo has a garden and buries each worry with the soil of his plants. he carries on as though nothing happened. inside he’s broken. half of him is missing. he pretends he doesn’t miss mingyu. he tells himself that the man was a nuisance and he is relieved to be rid of him. he says he didn’t make a mistake. wonwoo doesn’t miss his ex husband at all. he pretends he doesn’t, so mingyu pretends he doesn’t too.

he pretends the rough drafts in his sketchbook aren’t wonwoo. he tells people he’s over it. he tells people he’s fine. but mingyu never wanted the divorce. he still loves wonwoo with all of his heart and he pretends he doesn’t.

wonwoo gets used to the new cold of his bed. he sleeps in the middle. he got used to being alone when he was ill and waits for it to leave. no one was there anymore. no one is forcing down the remedies so he goes without.

mingyu leaves his porch light on in case wonwoo comes around. there’s a key beneath the stone outside. he sleeps on the right side of the bed, as he did when he was married. it hurt.

wonwoo sees mingyu in every pencil, in every brush. every art gallery he passes by holds mingyu’s ghost. he’s in every cookbook, every cooking show. he sees him in every couple on the street. he pretends he doesn’t. mingyu pretends he doesn’t too.

sometimes wonwoo finds himself typing a message to mingyu. just to ask how he is. what he’s been up to. but then he deletes it and they remain out of touch.

wonwoo pretends he doesn’t, and mingyu pretends he doesn’t too. they don’t know what hurts more - missing the other person, or pretending not to.

people ask what happened. had they argued? had someone cheated? but neither of them can answer. they don’t know. wonwoo never gave mingyu an explanation because wonwoo can barely explain it himself; he just fell out of love the same way he fell into it.

eventually mingyu shatters completely. the food in his cupboard remains untouched. he loses weight. his friends grow worried as he turns away from them towards the drink to forget his sorrows. wonwoo is oblivious.

at twenty-seven mingyu can no longer handle it. he walks to town one night with a rope in a bucket swinging from his wrist. he knows of an iron bar in between two buildings at the start of an alley, and knows that it’s high enough for his height. so he steps onto the bucket, ties the rope around the bar, and slips the other end into a noose around his neck. then mingyu kicks the bucket from beneath his feet. the buildings frame his body.

white lilies decorate his funeral, as they did his wedding. but rather than white the guests wear black. he wears black forever. wonwoo stays home because despite his previous mother-in-law’s words, he feels that he isn’t welcome. he is the reason for that man’s death. he visits him at his grave a few weeks later instead. he arranges a bouquet of carnations because he knows they were mingyu’s favorites.

so now only wonwoo pretends he doesn’t. and he doesn’t know what hurts more - missing mingyu, or pretending he doesn’t.


End file.
